Lost I lose or a nice friend? Faith begged you, tender tenderness? The chrysanthemums all fall meadow in my sleep come, caress my bed.
Chrysanthemums, my chrysanthemums, laughing wax princesses. White, clean, morning sisters, what loves my dear ones, what do you love so sorrow?
Does a wedding get up or death drops us? Laska passes us, old age comes to us. Chrysanthemums full of autumn meadow under the chrysanthemum, dancing in memory
Since ancient times, they have been condemned by fiery legends, human woes. Chrysanthemums all over the meadow first not to meet, the first to send.
Bulgarian Stage Artist Lily Ivanova
© Elenka Smilenova 2017 – All Rights Reserved